Where's Your Crown, King Nothing
by Tiara Peterson
Summary: Crowley story by request. The history of Crowley and his rise to power. Inspired by the poem, The New King of Hell by mystic angel. Rated T for mild language and violence. This could change.


**1730**

Fergus McLeod spent his days tending to the livestock that roamed the land. Tall, lush, green grass was the main source of their food and their water supply was a large lake at the northern end of the property. He would wind through the large fields of oats and vegetables, stripping the ripe and ready food from their source. Baskets were filled and many trips were made to the hut where food was stored. They had been blessed by this years' harvest and wouldn't struggle through the harsh winter.

When it came to shear the sheep, Fergus would enlist the help of his son, Angus. For being only 15, the boy could definitely handle himself and anything in his way. Angus would hold the anxious beast on the ground while his father worked through the thick wool. Piles of dirty wool were stored until Ceit (pronounced Kate) was ready to turn them into clothing or bedding to wear and sell in town.

Angus had been sent out to gather the horses when Fergus saw the carriage, Ceit had returned early. He lifted an arm in greeting which she returned; he could see her smile from a hundred yards off. The sun shone off her fire red hair and he felt the urge to run his fingers through the curly strands.

The black stallion halted just as Fergus raised a hand. The soft fur was like velvet to the touch. Ceit climbed down with the bundle of their newborn daughter strapped to her chest. She stood on tiptoe and sighed against her husband's lips. "I missed ye."

Fergus filled his desire and ran his dirty hands through Ceit's hair. "I missed ye, my love." He buried his nose against the tiny head of his daughter and breathed her in. "How's the babe?"

Ceit absentmindedly reached up to pat the bundle. "Ay, she's content, for now."

Fergus pressed another kiss against his wife's full lips before she departed. He busied himself with unhitching the horse and getting the beast fed. The sun had started its descent when Ceit called out; dinner was just about ready.

He finished the task at hand before he entered the house and was met with the hungry wails of Beitiris. Before he picked up the baby, Fergus dipped his hands in the bowl of water. "Ay, B, Da's got you, my love." The baby ground her face into her father's neck in search of food. "I think it's ye she wants."

Ceit chuckled before she accepted the squirmy bundle and held it to her breast. She pushed the thin cotton top out of the way and watched as the baby rummaged for a nipple. "Have ye seen Angus?"

Fergus drew his brows together. "I sent him to gather the horses."

Their daughter snuffled against the soft skin as she fed, her hands balled into fists next to her mouth. "It's getting dark."

Fergus swallowed a large bite of beef stew. "Ay. I'll head out after I eat."

Ceit turned her attention to the babe at her breast and Fergus kept an eye out the small window that overlooked the open field. Angus hadn't lumbered through the door by the time Fergus finished his meal. With a gun in his arms, a lit lantern and a kiss from his wife and child, Fergus headed out into the darkness.

He looked in the stables as he passed and found the horse stalls remained empty. "Ah, boy, where ye be?"

As Fergus trudged through the grassy terrain, he gave a shrill whistle and hoped an answer would fall upon his ears. His legs carried him to the edge of their property and no answer from Angus caused his heart to hammer against his chest.

Rapid hoof beats to his left drew his attention and he dove out of the way just as his horses would have surely crushed Fergus. His gun tumbled into the water and the flame was snuffed out. He dare not move until the beasts disappeared into the forest.

It was then he felt something was wrong. Fergus shot off the ground and scanned the horizon. There, where his house stood, flames licked at the sky. A shout clawed out of his throat as his legs pumped into action. The flames were hot against him as he drew near and he screamed for his wife and children. Cries went unanswered as he looked for a way in. Bleats from the sheep and other animal noises were drowned out as the flames grew stronger and hotter.

Just as Fergus was about to throw himself through the burning timber of the door, a scream halted him. Even in distress, he knew that the scream came from Ceit. He turned and watched as his son, Angus, held a sharp blade against his mother's throat and a snarl overtook his features. "Hiya, Da."

Disbelief rolled through Fergus as he took in his family before him. "Angus, what're ye doin'?"

The voice that came from Angus, was not his own. "I'm giving ye nothin' to live fer."

Fergus suddenly wished for his gun. The battle to hold back his tears was lost when he saw the lifeless form of his newborn daughter. He fell to his knees and choked out a sob. "Why?"

"It's terribly hard to possess someone that has everythin' he needs."

Ceit had given up struggling, it only dug the blade into her vulnerable neck. "Fergus, I love ye."

Fergus answered his wife a split second before the blade swept across her neck and sent a spray of blood through the air. Drops fell against Fergus' face and mixed with the tears. He watched as she bled out and the spark of life had flickered out. He howled in agony and tried to push off the ground.

Angus held his hand out and power slammed into Fergus' chest, rooting him to the ground. "I'm not done with ye yet."

What more could Fergus take? He found out as he watched Angus snapped his own neck and plunged the blade into his chest. "What are ye?" Fergus' voice was not his own, completely void of any and all life and love and hope.

The lips of his son pulled into a devilish grin. "Name's Crowley, mate."

Angus' head flew back and a black pillar of smoke billowed from his open mouth. Fergus was momentarily free from the power that held him but he was unable to move. His son fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Fergus didn't have a chance to shed another tear, the plume of smoke flew towards him. He opened his mouth to scream but it was muffled by the thick substance. It clawed its way in and pushed everything human about Fergus deep down. He was being smothered in his own body and it hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. Fergus tried to scream, tried to fight against the intrusion but he no longer had control of his own body.

The demon stood and stretched every muscle, he relished the feel of a new vessel. There wasn't anything particular about Fergus that made Crowley choose him, it was all about timing. He rolled his neck and felt the hard earned muscles flex under soft skin. "Hush now Fergus, screaming won't do ye any good. No one can hear ye but ye and myself." Crowley chuckled thickly as he snapped his fingers and disappeared from the carnage, this could be fun.


End file.
